


Close Your Eyes

by Araesson



Series: In My Dreams Lies Reality [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: Abusive Dursley Family (Harry Potter), Female Harry Potter, Gen, Harry Potter Abandoned by Dursleys, Harry Potter was Raised by Other(s), So is it godly or angelic interference?, Weechesters, cute family feels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2020-08-23 22:14:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20241148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Araesson/pseuds/Araesson
Summary: Alexandrite Haven Potter is left to die by the Dursleys. She is saved, as luck would have it, by John Winchester. Alexandrite decides to leave behind her old life and become Haven Winchester. Haven’s life is no fairy tale, but with her brothers at her side she is never alone. And that is all that really matters.





	1. Strong This Time

_ Loki _

_ Pocket Dimension _

_ November of 1986 _

Loki was used to prayers. Sure, he didn’t get them as often as  _ some  _ gods did, but he had a few loyal followers who were daring enough to invoke his name in their prayers-- not to mention his  _ other self,  _ but Loki didn’t like to mention that much. He had just enough prayers to keep himself sustained, but few enough that it was no hardship to look into and address each one.

Prayers were generally precluded by a little tickle, and the vague impression that someone had called your name. Which someone had, generally. Funny thing, that. This one came with the scent of chocolate-- an offering. 

_ “Loki.” _

The trickster instantly focused in on the voice. A hop across the pond-- ah, England. Had to be Remus Lupin, then. The werewolf was one of the very few that still kept up contact.

Granted, several of the others had their reasons for losing contact with their dear old Patron God.

_ “I, well. I apologize if I am disturbing you. It’s Remus, and I was just… Just thinking.”  _ It was strange how old his voice sounded. Wasn’t he still in his twenties? Those were supposed to be the young and vibrant years. The war hadn’t taken them only from the young casualties it seemed.  _ “I don’t know where she is-- James’ daughter, little Alexandrite. Dumbledore won’t tell me. He only tells me she is safe, but I still worry for her. I just want her to be safe and happy. Can you look after her where I, James, and Lily can’t? Please? She’s all I-- all I have left.” _

How could Loki deny such an earnest request? There was a please and everything! Remus was always such a polite and respectful boy, something many of Loki’s followers tended to lack. Not that he minded much, bless all of their little crooked hearts.

Besides, Remus’ request happened to echo the last wish of a dear follower. Loki didn’t forget anything. He remembered the words with perfect clarity.

_ “He’s here, oh, Merlin, he’s here and-- please, Loki, my wife and daughter-- he’s after my daughter, don’t let him hurt them.” _

Loki had failed on account of Lily Potter. There hadn’t been much he could do without making a big splash and drawing attention to himself. He’d rather his brothers upstairs not get the memo that he was hiding out on Earth. However, Lily Potter’s sacrifice had given him the opportunity to pull off a neat trick that saved the kiddo  _ and  _ dealt with crazy on a power trip in one fell swoop. He was rather proud of that one.

Eh, why not look in on Alexandrite Haven Potter?

* * *

_ Alexandrite Haven Potter _

_ New York City, New York, USA _

_ November of 1986 _

It was cold. Dudley’s old jacket didn’t do nearly enough to keep Alexandrite warm. The wind was biting, but she dared not stay inside anywhere for long.

Something was after her. She didn’t know what. Alexandrite had to keep running.  _ It would get her. _

She was used to running from Dudley and his friends. This was different. There was no cupboard to hide in. There was no guarantee of a tisk from Aunt Petunia and a,  _ “Remember, not too visible, the neighbors might see,”  _ or maybe a  _ “Vernon, we don’t want to have to waste money on dragging the Freak to the Hospital again.” _

Alexandrite was alone. She didn’t know where the Dursleys were anymore. Had it been long enough that their week’s holiday was up and they had gone back to Number 4, Privet Drive? She couldn’t tell. She had lost track. She was cold, so cold, and more hungry than she’d ever been before. She couldn’t sneak to the refrigerator in the middle of the night. There was no refrigerator. There were no scraps from the kitchen.

The girl was freezing and starving and weak and shaking and  _ so, so scared,  _ she just wanted to curl up and cry but she  _ couldn’t.  _ It would catch her. It would hurt her. She needed to run. She couldn’t help the few tears that snuck out as she ran, though. The little tears froze on her cheeks.

On and on, the constant beat of her feet against the icy roads and alleys. She slipped and slid in the ice and snow, but didn’t let it slow her down. Alexandrite just kept running. She couldn’t look back. Then she would see and she didn’t want to see. Not again.

Her legs hurt. Her chest hurt. Her sides stung. Her gut ached. Her head felt fuzzy. She wanted more than anything to stop. 

She couldn’t stop. If she did it would catch her. She didn’t want it to catch her. She couldn’t let it. She had to get away. 

Alexandrite was just so tired. So sleepy. She wanted to rest. She wanted to eat. She was thirsty. How long could she run anyway? Not forever. 

But if she stopped it would catch her it would have her she would hurt and have to look at it again. 

Her feet slipped again, and she fell.

Alexandrite couldn’t get up. Her legs shook and wouldn’t let her. Her arms shook. The little girl cried out, terrified but exhausted and weak. She shut her eyes tight. She wouldn’t have to see. This was just a dream. Just a dream, just a dream, just a dream. Alexandrite curled up on the ground, hiding her head and keeping her eyes closed. She didn’t even peek. 

There was a shriek. She jumped, but she was so tired. Alexandrite didn’t open her eyes. She didn’t move. It was just a dream. She was going to wake up at Number 4 Privet Drive and this would all just be a dream. 

Suddenly she felt warm and safe. It was like how she imagined being wrapped in a hug would feel. The pain faded. 

_ “You’re safe,”  _ the voice was gentle, barely more than a whisper on the wind,  _ “It won’t get you.”  _

She felt even weaker from relief. Alexandrite didn’t have to run anymore. She could rest. She could  _ sleep. _

Tired as she was, it didn’t cross her mind to doubt the voice.

_ “Not quite yet. Wait.”  _ The voice sounded amused in her ear. With great effort, she opened her eyes and looked around. It was dark, the alley lit only by dim lights from the main street. She could see a shape walking towards her. Her first instinct was to cower, raising her trembling arms to protect her face. 

No hit came.

“Hello?” This voice was different than the one on the wind. It was a man’s voice. “You can come out. It’s gone.” 

She felt something like a gentle nudge that helped her to stand on her legs. Alexandrite swayed, but didn’t fall over. “Hello?” 

The man’s arms lowered as he turned to look at her. He was holding a gun. She took a few wary steps closer, but kept her distance. She couldn’t see his features well in the dark, but he didn’t sound angry. Even so. She couldn’t trust him. 

His voice softened a little as he spoke, “What happened to your parents? Were they with you, or...?” 

“They’re dead,” Alexandrite replied. She kept silent about the car crash, and that Aunt Petunia always said it was their fault because her father had been a  _ drunken hooligan.  _ People always looked at her strange after they were told, so she didn’t like to tell. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon liked telling the neighbors or anyone who would listen about how awful her parents had been and how she’d be just like them. 

“Is there anyone, like family or a family friend, who can take care of you, then?” the man asked. “Do you know how I can find them?” 

Alexandrite froze. He wanted to know how to find the Dursleys. She could tell him. She could say  _ Number 4, Privet Drive  _ and he would take her back. But then it would be back in the cupboard for her, probably for a month or worse, for getting lost and making someone take her home.  _ If you get lost, then stay lost. We should never have taken you in after your no-good parents died. We should have dropped you off at an orphanage where children like you belong.  _

Slowly, she shook her head. She didn’t want to go back. She didn’t want to stay lost, either, though. Alexandrite wanted food, and sleep, and no cupboard. She wanted not to hurt, not to ache. 

“No,” she said at last, her voice weak. But she had to say it, or he might not believe her. He might still say that she was lying and demand to know where they lived. Demand that she go back. But she wouldn’t go, she decided tiredly. She’d fight and scream if she had to. She’d run. Even if she was tired. She would run again before going back. 

“Alright. Alright.” The man tucked the gun into his jacket. “Look. Will you come with me? I need to get you somewhere safe before it comes back for you.”

Alexandrite began to shake again, “I-- It’s co-- coming back?” Her voice squeaked. 

“We’ll get you to safety before that happens. I’ll deal with it, so it won’t hurt you again. Come on.” The man knelt down and offered a hand. She didn’t have to look up anymore. She met his eyes. He wasn’t making her go back. But that didn’t mean she could trust him. Even if the voice said she was safe. What did it know about safe, anyway? The  _ thing _ was still out there. 

But eventually, she reached her hand out and slowly took his. What else could she do? The man said he’d deal with it. 

She had to walk fast to keep up with him, but she didn’t mind, not if the thing was going to come back. She didn’t want to see it again. 

Speaking of. “How are you going to deal with it?” she asked doubtfully. He was tall and bulky, sure, but what could  _ he  _ do? 

The man sighed, “I’m working on it.”

“So you don’t know,” she replied, “How are you going to deal with it if you don’t even know how?” 

“I’m going to figure it out.” 

She snorted. Sure he would. Alexandrite eyed him critically. He probably wouldn’t be able to do anything. But the thought of leaving him, and the only shred of safety from the thing, was scary. She was tired, anyway. So tired. She didn’t want to run off on her own again if she didn’t have to. Not yet. 

The man brought her to a car and gestured for her to get inside. She hesitated, giving the man a searching look. At last she decided to get inside. It would take her away from the thing. She was doubtful of the man, but she couldn’t pass up the chance to get just a little farther away that much faster. 

Alexandrite slept hard on the way to wherever it was the man was taking her. She was rather sore about him making her wake up when they reached wherever it was they were going.

Grumbling, she followed after him as he led her towards a building. Alexandrite took several moments to puzzle out that he’d taken her to some sort of hotel, or was it motel? People changed them up, it was confusing. Which was it?

She was brought to one of the rooms, which really wasn’t a bad option. Even if she had to take the floor like when she’d been staying at that hotel with the Dursleys at the start of the trip. 

“Dad?” a voice called. It was a boy. Alexandrite frowned at him. He was bigger than her. People who were bigger than her were mean to her, mostly. Like Dudley and his friends. 

The boy ran up to get a hug from the man, but then caught her eye and stared back at her. “Who’s she, dad?” 

The man went to answer, but stopped. He looked at her, then asked, “What’s your name, kid?” 

She almost said ‘Alexandrite’. Then she thought. Alexandrite was a freak. If she was Alexandrite, she’d be the daughter of criminals and hated and beat up and locked away. She wanted, more than anything, to be strong. Then Dudley would never be able to hurt her again. 

So she couldn’t be Alexandrite. That girl was weak. But… she could be… 

“Haven. I’m Haven.” 

John left her in the room with the boy, who she learned was named Dean.

Haven stared at Dean, who stared back. He didn’t seem to know what to do. She held her head high. She was tired and hungry and sore and cold. But that didn’t matter. That was weak and Haven was going to be strong. She wasn’t going to let this boy push her around. 

“How old are you?” the boy finally asked. He wasn’t looking away. He stuck his hands in his pockets. 

“Six,” she replied, straightening her back like her Aunt and Uncle did when they wanted to impress someone. She wasn’t a baby anymore. Six was old enough to be strong. 

Dean nodded, “Well, I’m seven.” She tried not to show her surprise. Seven? Seven was old. She tried not to shiver. It didn’t matter. He could be seven and she six. Haven was strong. Haven wasn’t going to be a freak. She wasn’t going to get hurt. 

“So why’re you here?” Dean asked suspiciously. 

Haven shrugged. “Cause the man said he’d do something about the thing. I don’t believe him, though.” 

“My dad can do anything!” Dean protested. 

She scoffed, “Can not.”

“Can too!” 

“Can  _ not.”  _

“Can too!” 

Haven rolled her eyes. “Of course he can’t. No one can do  _ anything.”  _

“Well, my dad  _ can,”  _ Dean argued, crossing his arms. “He’ll show you.” 

Haven shrugged. It would be sort of nice if the man actually could do something about the thing. But she wasn’t counting on it. “You’re stupid.” 

“Am  _ not!”  _

“Are too.”

“Am not!” 

“Are too.”

“Am not!”

“Are too!” 

“Well--” Dean paused, struggling to find something as his face turned red. She had made Dudley turn that kind of red a few times. She’d never regretted it afterwards, even if he hit her really badly. It was funny when he got mad. “Your voice is weird!” 

“So’s yours,” Haven replied, hands on her hips. 

“Is not!” 

“Is too!” 

“Is  _ not!”  _

“Is too!” 

“Well, I think you’re too small to be six! You’re just a baby,” Dean yelled. 

“No I’m not!” Haven shouted, “Take it back! I’m not a baby!” 

“Baby!” 

Haven screamed and dove for him. She didn’t care if she was tired and hungry. She didn’t care. Haven was strong and she wouldn’t be called names. 

She tackled him to the ground. Both of them tried to hit each other wherever they could-- arms, face, chest. She screamed wordlessly at him, not caring when she got hit. She wasn’t weak. Haven wouldn’t be called names. She wasn’t a  _ baby!  _

They fought only moments before there was another voice. “Dean? What’s going on?” 

Both of them stopped immediately, looking at each other. The voice sounded like it was someone little. Littler than her. Dean sat up, and then she did. 

There was a boy at the door to another room. He was small. He looked scared. Instantly, Haven felt bad. She didn’t mean to scare someone so little. He was tiny. He couldn’t hurt her. 

“It’s alright, Sammy,” said Dean. He looked at her and smiled. “Sammy, this is Haven. Haven, this is Sammy. He’s my little brother. He’s three. How about I make some breakfast?” 

She frowned at him suspiciously, but nodded. He got up and offered her a hand up. Haven hesitated, but took it and let him help her up. Haven yawned as Dean went to the kitchen. Sammy, arms around a small, worn stuffed animal, ran for Dean and hid behind his legs. She watched as he peeked around at her with big brown eyes. 

“It’s alright, Sammy. Dad says Haven is staying with us for a few days until he takes care of something at work,” Dean said as he rummaged through cabinets. “Why don’t you sit down and color while you wait?” 

Sammy slowly walked away to a corner near the kitchen, where a coloring book and crayons sat. He gave her several glances, but he began to color in the picture. Haven hovered, unsure of what to do. She wasn’t mad at Dean anymore. She decided to sit at the small table next to the kitchen. 

She frowned at Dean. “Do you even know how to cook?” Dudley was big and he didn’t know. Dean wasn’t quite that kind of big, though. Maybe he did know. 

“Kinda. Do you?” Dean asked. 

“Yeah.” 

“Cool,” Dean replied. “Do you have any brothers?” 

Haven said, “No.” She didn’t bother mentioning her cousin Dudley. She didn’t like him. 

“What’s your favorite tv show?” Dean asked. 

“I can’t watch tv.”

“Why not?” 

“I’m not allowed.”

“Oh,” Dean said. He set out three bowls and began to pour cereal into each, and then milk. “What about favorite color?” 

Haven shrugged. “Red, maybe.” 

“I like green.”

That was reasonable, she thought. Green was okay, too. She kicked her feet, trying not to let her eyes close. They kept trying to do it on their own. She was sleepy. She yawned again as Dean walked over to put the bowl in front of her. He set the other two bowls at the table before picking up Sammy and setting him in a chair. 

Then they began to eat. Haven was so hungry that it was gone almost as soon as she started. 

“Do you want more?” Dean asked. 

She shook her head and yawned again. She was normally given smaller bowls than that. It was nice to have a bigger bowl for once, but she didn’t think she could eat any more. 

“I guess you can sleep on the couch. Do you need pj’s?” Dean asked. She nodded again. He ran off to one of the rooms and returned with sweatpants and a shirt. He pointed her to the bathroom and she went to change. 

The clothes were too big on her, but they fit much better than Dudley’s old things ever did. She didn’t really care. She returned to the main room and fell onto the couch. She was awake only long enough to remember Dean throwing a blanket over her. 


	2. Living In Fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, but the first few weeks of college got in the way. It's fun so far.

_ Haven _

_ New York City, New York, USA _

_ November of 1986 _

_ Alexandrite didn’t know where the Dursleys had gone. She couldn’t find them. It was cold. She watched the snow fall gently onto the ground as she wandered. _

_ There was a giggle on the wind. It sent shivers down her spine. It wasn’t a nice giggle. It was the mean sort of one that neighborhood kids had whenever they did mean things to her. Only this one was… colder. _

_ Alexandrite looked behind her. It was a bad choice. _

_ There was… something, there. It wasn’t much bigger than she was, but that didn’t seem to matter. It wore all dark grey. It’s fingers were curled, with what looked like magic fire dancing on the fingertips. The most striking feature it had were a pair of glowing green eyes and an evil smile. _

_ “I’ve been looking for you,” the thing spoke. It’s-- her-- voice was strange. Not human. Alexandrite shivered and took a step back. “I wonder why they want you dead.” _

_ It’s smile widened as it wagged a finger at her. “You must have been a very bad girl.” _

_ The thing waved a hand at her, and that magic fire came rushing for her. Alexandrite screamed and fell backwards, covering her head with her arms. She’d touched fire once. It hurt. She didn’t want to touch it again. _

_ But no pain came. She looked up. A glimmering blue… something, surrounded her, stopping the fire. Like a shield. The thing’s face twisted cruelly. _

_ “So you want to play the game like that? Naughty, naughty,” it tisked. The face began to twist. Features that were once delicate but sharp became terrible. Alexandrite couldn’t look away. It was going to kill her. She was going to die. _

_ She had to run. _

* * *

Alexandrite woke with a gasp.

“Hey, are you okay?” 

It took Alexandrite a moment to remember where she was. Right. The man. Dean. Sammy. The one who had spoken was Dean. He sat on the other couch with Sammy, watching something on the television. Alexa-- no, Haven sat up and rubbed her eyes. Her heart was beating fast in her chest, but she tried not to show how scared she was. 

She hoped that the man would be able to get rid of that thing, whatever it was. Haven didn’t care how he made it go away, as long as he did. Not that he _ could, _she thought grumpily. She shivered again. 

“Hello?” Dean asked, dragging out the ‘o’ sound. 

She shook her head and said, “Right. Um, fine.” Haven knew better than to talk about her dreams and nightmares. The one time she’d told Dudley he’d had ammunition to make fun of her for _ weeks. _ It was better not to say anything. Getting scared over nightmares was for _ babies, _anyway. 

Dean shrugged and returned his attention to the television screen. Sammy was staring at her from where he was tucked into Dean’s side. His thumb was in his mouth. Haven tried to smile at him. He looked scared of her, still. Poor thing. He was so little. It didn’t feel right to scare a little thing like that. 

“So when’s he coming back?” Haven asked, tossing the blanket over the back of the couch and kicking her legs. They didn’t quite reach the ground. 

“Who? Dad?” Dean asked. She nodded. “I don’t know. Whenever he comes back. He won’t be gone too long. He’ll be back before the break is over.” 

Haven didn’t know what the ‘break’ was, but he made it sound like it wouldn’t be too long. That was fine. As long as he showed up at some point to tell her what happened to the thing. 

Bored, she glanced at the clock on the wall. It was late afternoon. Dinner time. Without really thinking about it, she made her way into the kitchen. Then she was stumped. Aunt Petunia was supposed to tell her what she was cooking, or what she was helping to make. 

How was she going to get her dinner if she didn’t cook it or help? She glanced back at Dean and Sammy. Dean had said he knew some cooking, but he didn’t seem like he was about to leave the couch. Sammy was too little to know how. 

Alexandrite curiously poked around into the cabinets. She found things to make a good breakfast. It wasn’t morning, but she wasn’t sure what else she could make with what she found. It would have to work. 

“What are you doing?” asked Dean as she began to make the bacon. 

“Cooking dinner,” she replied. 

“Oh.” 

She was left to finish the meal in peace. Using a chair she dragged from the dining table, she was able to reach all of the things she needed to. 

Haven set three plates on the table. She didn’t know how much Dean or Sammy would want. Surely not as much as Uncle Vernon and Dudley. Maybe? She sighed at herself for caring how much they wanted and settled for an amount a little bigger than hers for Sammy and even more for Dean. 

“Are you coming to eat or what?” Haven asked as she took her seat. She hesitated before digging in-- she didn’t have to, _ wouldn’t _ wait for them. She didn’t _ care. _She didn’t have to care anymore. Her fork shook for her first bite, but as Dean and Sammy eagerly ran over to the table she relaxed. 

“You made some for us?” Dean asked as he helped Sammy into his seat and then took his own. She nodded, not bothering to say anything. She was going to eat it all before one of them finished. Hopefully they wouldn’t steal any of it that way. Haven eyed them warily, but they both seemed happy with their own plates. Still, she watched them. Just in case. 

Dean hummed after he’d cleared most of his plate, “This is good. Why d’you know how to make it?” 

“I gotta eat, don’t I?”

* * *

It took another day before Sammy said anything to her.

Sammy walked up to her, holding out a stuffed dog. Shyly, he said, “Hi. I’m Sam.” 

“I’m Haven,” she replied. He smiled and lifted the dog closer to her. It was worn, but there weren’t any rips like Dudley’s stuffed animals had whenever he got mad. 

“Woof,” Sam said. She couldn’t help a little smile of her own. 

“Woof,” she agreed. “Is he yours?” 

Sammy nodded eagerly. “Woof, woof.” He pressed the toy into her hands. Haven took it, unsure of what to do. Dudley never let her hold his toys. It was… soft. Sam took her other hand and began to pull her into the bedroom that he shared with Dean. She ended up following, not knowing what else to do. 

He brought her to the side of the bed, where there was a small backpack. He tugged the zipper clumsily and opened it. The pack was stuffed with toys. 

“You have a lot of toys,” she said. Not as many as Dudley-- not nearly. But more than she’d ever had. All she had ever gotten were old, broken things she’d stolen from Dudley. But if he ever caught her he’d get mad and hit her, and demand it back. Then Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon would get mad. 

Sam shrugged and began to pull each toy out carefully to show it to her. He’d then hand it to her. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do, but accepted each one. At some point there were too many to keep holding, so she started to place them in a pile beside her. It didn’t upset him, so she didn’t think she did the wrong thing. 

That seemed to be all he wanted to do-- show her the toys. After that he put most of them back. 

He let her keep holding the dog. Haven didn’t want to take it from him, but it was… soft. 

* * *

_ She had to run had to run had to run had to run-- _

* * *

Alexandrite woke up the next day to a door slamming open. She had thrown herself off the couch in an instant, ready to run before it got her-- 

Wait. 

She looked to the door of the room and saw the man-- Dean and Sam’s dad. He set a bag down on the table, only sparing her a glance as he went. 

“Dean!” the man called. It wasn’t long before Dean ran into the room, smiling when he saw his father. 

“Dad!” Dean ran up to hug him. The man only allowed it for a moment before gently pushing Dean away.

“Pack your things, Dean. We’re leaving. Get Sam up,” the man ordered. Dean went back to the bedroom without another word. The man looked to Alexandrite, “That goes for you, too. Get ready to leave.” 

Get ready to leave? All she had were Dudley’s hand-me-downs that she’d been wearing, and the sleep clothes she was borrowing from Dean. She had no desire to change back into the too large, smelly clothes. 

As the man began to dart about, throwing things in bags and suitcases, she followed him with her eyes. 

“Did you get it?” Haven asked. The man ignored her, so she repeated the question. When he ignored her again she scowled. 

“You didn’t, did you?” Haven commented, annoyed. “I knew you wouldn’t. Did you or not? What happened? Did you find it? Did you see it? I bet you couldn’t even find it. Why’d you say you could do it if you couldn’t?” 

Dean had returned to the main room. As she opened her mouth to continue questioning the man, Dean hissed, “Shh!” 

“What?” Haven asked.

Dean replied, “We gotta go. You can ask him later. He’ll get mad if you keep asking.” 

Haven tried to reply, say she didn’t _ care _ if the man got mad, but she couldn’t make a sound. She looked back to the man, who was bigger and stronger than her. She hadn’t seen him mad yet-- would he be worse than even Uncle Vernon? Just because he couldn’t fight the _ thing _didn’t mean he couldn’t hurt her. 

She balled her shaking hands into fists. No. _ No. _She wasn’t gonna be scared. She was Haven. Haven wasn’t gonna be scared all the time. 

“I still think he didn’t do it,” Haven muttered at last as Dean adjusted his bag on his shoulder. He huffed and returned to the bedroom. He came out only a minute later with Sam and more bags-- including Sam’s bag of toys that he’d shown her. 

“Ready?” the man asked. 

“Ready,” Dean replied. The man nodded to him, gathered the bags, and the group marched out of the room. They packed the things into the car and everyone got inside. Everyone but the man got into the back. Sammy sat in the middle while Haven took one side and Dean took the other. 

“Where’re we going now?” Haven asked. Maybe he’d realized he couldn’t fight the thing and was going to take them and run. 

The man sighed. “I’m taking you guys to Jim’s.” That didn’t answer anything, but he wasn’t talking to her anymore. “I’m going to have to miss Thanksgiving dinner this year.” 

Dean let out a sad sound, but then said louder, “Oh. Okay.” It didn’t sound okay to Haven, but she wasn’t even sure what Thanksgiving dinner was. 

The ride was… long. It went on and on. She fell asleep several times, but every time she’d dream of running again and would wake up. 

She didn’t know how long it had been when they finally made it wherever they were going. All she knew was that she was bored, tired, and hungry. Haven had never been in a car so long in her life. It wasn’t as bad as the cupboard, since she wasn’t alone. 

They gathered their things, and marched inside. There was another man-- one she’d never met. He was looking at her. 

“Jim, this is Haven. Haven, this is Pastor Jim. The three of you will be staying with him while I take care of something,” the man said.

“Are you leaving now, or staying the night?” the new man-- Pastor Jim-- asked. 

The man hesitated, but at last he nodded, “Just tonight. I might need another pair of eyes for this one.”

“We can talk about that after you’ve gotten some sleep. You look dead on your feet,” Pastor Jim replied. “Go on. I’ll look after them.” 

The man didn’t argue. He just walked further inside and disappeared into the hallway. Pastor Jim looked back to the three of them. She stared back. 

“Haven, is it? That’s a pretty name,” Pastor Jim said softly. Ale-- Haven blinked. What? She wasn’t sure what to say to that. No one said anything like that to her. “Well, I bet all of you are hungry. Come on, I’ll make you something.” 

Dean, holding Sam’s hand, followed. Alexandrite hesitated before doing the same. She wasn’t sure what to do. What was she supposed to do? She should help make food, probably. But as they all gathered in the kitchen and Pastor Jim didn’t order her to do anything, Alexandrite fidgeted. She knew she should help, but she also knew she couldn’t get in the way. Normally she would have been ordered to do something by now. She kicked her feet and tapped her fingers. Was he gonna get mad since she wasn’t doing anything? Was she gonna be able to eat? To eat she had to make it or help. Was this a meal not meant for her? Sometimes when the Dursleys had guests or important meals she wasn’t allowed any at all. Usually she had to help anyway, but… 

“It’ll be done soon, calm down,” Dean hissed at her. She glared at him and continued kicking her feet. 

To her surprise, when plates were placed in front of Dean and Sam, a plate was placed in front of her as well. Alexandrite almost couldn’t believe it. She didn’t help. She didn’t make it. So she couldn’t eat. But… 

Hand shaking, she picked up the fork. Took a bite. Glanced around. No one looked angry. No one had snatched the plate. No one had yelled. She risked another bite. Looked again. Everyone else was eating and not paying her any mind. Another bite. And another. Then the whole plate, and still no one got mad. Dean was split between eating his own and helping Sam with his. Pastor Jim was carrying on a conversation with Dean, asking about things like school and friends and tv shows. When Pastor Jim caught her looking at them, he smiled. She quickly looked away with a grumble. What was he all smiley about? 

As the evening went on, Pastor Jim made even less sense. He started asking her the same questions he’d asked Dean. He smiled and laughed like she was saying something funny, even if she didn’t know what was funny about no favorite tv shows. What was the point of tv anyway? At least that’s what she said, so he wouldn’t know she wanted to be allowed to watch them, just to see what was so interesting about them.

Eventually Pastor Jim called bedtime and trooped them off to beds. She got one that was nicer than her old one. It wasn’t scratchy and didn’t smell weird. Why was she being allowed to sleep in it? What did Pastor Jim want? It didn’t make any sense. 

Alexandrite was still trying to puzzle it out when she fell asleep. When she woke up the next morning, the man-- Dean’s dad-- had gone.


	3. Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Ready for cute things that might also make you a bit sad?

**** _ Haven _

_ Blue Earth, Minnesota, USA _

_ November of 1986 _

Thanksgiving, Haven learned, was a holiday. Pastor Jim was busy for most of the day, but when it got late he brought in boxes filled with food and called them to the dining room. 

It smelled really good. Dean set Sammy into a chair before beginning to pass around the plates. Haven hovered nearby, but when the Pastor smiled at her, she slowly sat down in one of the chairs. She watched him warily. He hadn’t done anything but be nice to her yet. It was weird. She was waiting for him to laugh and then turn mean. But he didn’t. 

She got a little angry with herself, because when Pastor Jim was nice it made her happy. It wasn’t gonna last. But she got happy anyway. 

Pastor Jim piled food onto her plate while she watched. Dean was doing the same for Sammy, but she wasn’t Sammy. She was Alexand-- no, she was  _ Haven.  _ Was he going to take the plate away this time after making her think she’d get to eat all of that? Maybe he’d put something in it that would make her sick. No one would just give her all of that food, especially not when she’d done nothing to make it or help. 

But as she began to eat, none of that happened. It tasted… good. She didn’t feel sick. No one was taking her plate from her. They were busy with their own food. 

Why didn’t Pastor Jim make sense? Everything he did was confusing. It scared her more than if he just acted normal. It had to be a trick. No adults were nice to  _ her.  _ If they were, it didn’t last. But Pastor Jim hadn’t gone mean yet. 

Why not? What did he want? 

Haven tried her best, but was unable to finish the plate. She wondered if the reason there was so much was because she wouldn’t be given any more for days or weeks. She managed a few more bites, but it only made her feel sick. Alexandrite tried to convince herself, just one more bite-- but she couldn’t make herself do it. She stared at the plate and struggled not to cry. She wasn’t going to get any more for a long time. That had to be it. Would Pastor Jim be mad that she was wasting food? 

She froze in her seat, not daring to move. Alexandrite couldn’t draw his attention. She bit the inside of her cheek, waiting for him to notice. As soon as he got mad, she’d tell him it was  _ his  _ fault, she thought viciously. He shouldn’t have given her so much if he didn’t want her to waste it. He’d be even more mad, but the thought of yelling back made her feel better. 

Only, once everyone else had stopped eating… Sammy hadn’t finished his plate either. Dean had some left too. Pastor Jim just smiled and gathered the plates that still had food. 

He walked out. No yelling. No anger. Nothing. 

Haven began to shake despite herself. He’d come back and get mad. He was just trying to trick her. That had to be it. He’d come back in and--

Pastor Jim walked in with a smile. When Dean asked if they could stay up to watch tv, he replied, “Just this once.” 

When Haven didn’t follow, he looked back and asked, “Are you coming, Haven?” 

She didn’t know what to think. She knew he’d get mad at her sometime. Why wasn’t he? It made no sense. He should be angry but he wasn’t. He was smiling and treating her like he treated Sammy and Dean. Haven didn’t like it. Well, she did but she didn’t all at the same time. 

Haven sat on the edge of the couch. It was soft and comfy, but she was just waiting to be yelled at. She knew she wasn’t supposed to sit on the couch and watch tv. 

But it was warm. No one was yelled. They were wrapped up in blankets, Dean holding a sleeping Sammy to his chest, Pastor Jim with his head rested against the back of his seat and his eyes closed. Haven had a blanket, too. The room was dark and she was tired. 

She wrapped her blanket tightly around and burrowed into the couch. She curled up into as tight a ball as she could to make sure she didn’t disturb Dean.

Haven hardly noticed as she fell asleep.

* * *

_ It was gonna get her it was gonna get her she had to get away it was gonna get her--  _

_ Alexandrite tripped and fell as she came to a dead end. She looked back, but quickly averted her eyes when she saw  _ it.  _ There was no way out. She was trapped. She couldn’t run. What was she going to do?  _

_ Alexandrite squeezed her eyes shut and pretended she wasn’t crying as she heard laughter.  _

_ “I’ve got you, now.”  _

* * *

“--ven! Haven! Psst! Haven! Wake up!” 

She gasped and shot up. The whisper had been Dean. He was sitting next to her, hand on her shoulder. Alexan-- Haven flinched back and he let go. She swiped a hand over her face to hide her tears. She wasn’t supposed to cry over nightmares. She wasn’t supposed to be scared. Dean was going to make fun of her. 

“Nightmare? You okay?” Dean asked softly. He kept his voice quiet so he wouldn’t wake up Sammy or Pastor Jim. 

Haven frowned but nodded. She turned her head away. 

“You didn’t sound okay. Wanna talk about it?” 

She glanced at him before looking away again. “No.” 

“Hm,” Dean hummed. “Okay.”

“Okay?” she repeated. She thought he was going to keep asking about it and make fun of her for having a nightmare like a baby. 

“Okay,” Dean said, “If that’s what you want. You want milk? Dad makes me milk when I have a nightmare. I do it for Sammy, too. And dad.” 

Haven considered it. “Milk? How does milk help?”

“I don’t know. It just does. Come on.” Dean hopped off the couch and grabbed her arm. She yanked it away and got up on her own. 

They went to the kitchen together. Dean flicked on the lights and made his way to the refrigerator. Haven hovered nearby as he poured the milk into a cup and then handed it to her. She took a sip. 

Nothing happened. She didn’t feel any different. She glared at Dean but took another sip. Then another. 

“It’s not helping,” she said. 

Dean rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “Just drink it.” 

Haven pouted and took another sip. She would have argued more, but she didn’t want to waste it. She didn’t get to drink milk very often. Most of the time she only had it with cereal. It was special, but she still didn’t see how it was supposed to make her feel better. 

“Where are you from?” Dean asked. 

Haven glared at him again and took another sip. She wasn’t gonna say Privet Drive. “Why do you want to know?” 

Dean shrugged. “Ok. Do you move around a lot, too?” 

“No,” Haven replied. The milk tasted nice. 

“Well, we do. For dad’s work. We’ve been lots of places,” Dean said. He paused. “Do you like dogs?” 

Haven thought about it. Ripper, Aunt Marge’s dog, was awful. She hated him. But most other dogs didn’t seem so bad. Some of them even let her pet them and would lick her hand. That was nice. “Kind of.” 

“Sammy loves dogs. I think they’re cool-- well, not the tiny ones. I like the bigger ones. The little ones are annoying.” 

“Maybe.”

“I don’t really like cats, though.” 

“Me neither.” She made a face thinking about Mrs. Figg’s many cats. She didn’t like how they smelled. They weren’t as awful as Ripper, but she’d been scratched by them a few times.

Dean smiled. She realized that the milk had worked. She felt better. Haven scowled at Dean. She hadn’t wanted him to be right about it. 

Staring at what was left of her milk, she forced herself to say, “Thank you. For the milk. It does help.” She was annoyed at him, but at least she wasn’t scared anymore. The thing hadn’t found her. Maybe it had lost her? They did drive a long way. She hadn’t realized you could drive such a long way.

Dean’s smile widened. “You’re welcome.”

* * *

Dean started disappearing off to school, most days. She didn’t have to go. Haven spent most of her time sitting awkwardly in the same rooms as Pastor Jim while he was weirdly nice and tried to play games or ask questions. She liked spending time with Sam better. She didn’t really get what his games were about, but it wasn’t too hard to figure out what he wanted her to do. Most of the time she just sat next to him while he imagined the rest. 

He was small and cute and smiled at her, so she didn’t mind. It was more fun than she was used to having, anyway. He’d let her play with his toys if she asked him. Most of the time, he’d just hand her a few without having to be asked.

She was pretty sure Sam was her favorite. It didn’t make sense for an adult to be nice to her, but Sam was little. Dean was a bit weird, too, but at least he got mad at her sometimes. Pastor Jim never really got angry. He’d have a serious face the few times she tried doing something wrong-- just to see what he’d do, see if he’d act  _ normally  _ for once-- but he never raised his voice. He never hit her. He never locked her in the cupboard. Why wasn’t he normal? What did he want? Why would he act so nice? When was that gonna change? He couldn’t just stay nice forever! No adults were really that nice. Even Mrs. Figg got mad and yelled. And she smelled weird. 

Adults weren’t supposed to be so interested in what she liked. In keeping her happy. She didn’t trust it. 

She was pretty sure Pastor Jim knew that, but it just seemed to make him sad. 

* * *

_ “I’ve found you at last! Did you think you could run away from me?”  _

_ Alexandrite screamed.  _

* * *

Weeks later, Dean’s dad returned with a stack of wrapped gifts. She was pretty sure they were for Christmas. It was supposed to be coming up in a few days. 

Not that she cared. She never got anything. She was more worried about the thing, and if he’d done something. He just said “I’m working on it.” 

He didn’t stay long. He was gone again pretty soon. It seemed to upset Dean a lot that he left again. Sam was too focused on the gifts to care. 

* * *

_ Nowhere to run nowhere to run she was gonna be caught and the thing would-- _

* * *

She was wrong. Haven did get something for Christmas. Pastor Jim got her some clothes, a few toys, a stuffed animal, and a soft blanket.

Haven hadn’t been able to say anything back. She got presents. Actual presents. For Christmas.  _ Her.  _

Stubbornly trying not to cry, she’d said, “No. I don’t get presents. I’m not supposed to get presents. I can’t have them.” He was going to take the lovely things from her. The stuffed bear. The soft red blanket. The clothes. The toys. She couldn’t have them and soon he was going to realize that and take them. 

“They’re yours,” Pastor Jim replied. He looked sad again. Dean was looking at her weird too. At least Sam wasn’t looking at her. She bit her lip and pushed back tears. She wasn’t going to cry. She wasn’t going to cry. 

“But I don’t get presents!” Haven shouted, “I’m not allowed to have presents, stupid!” 

“You are now.” 

She had to hide her head behind the soft blanket because she couldn’t stop the tears any longer. It was such a nice blanket. She’d never owned anything so soft-- but it couldn’t be hers! Could it? She wanted it so bad. Pastor Jim said she could have it. 

“Do you really mean it?” she asked.

He replied, “Of course.”

* * *

_ “Stupid girl! Of course you don’t get presents!” _

_ Uncle Vernon took that lovely blanket and tore it apart. Dudley stomped on the toys. Aunt Petunia ripped the head off of the bear’s body. She was screaming but they wouldn’t stop. Dudley kicked her back onto the floor when she tried to shove him away and save the toys. _

_ “Freaks don’t get presents for Christmas.” _

* * *

“Wake up!”

She sat up. Alexandrite could just barely make out Pastor Jim in the dark.

“Get dressed and grab your things. We’ve got to go,” he ordered.

“Why?” she asked.

He said, “I’ll tell you in the car.” 

Haven scowled but didn’t argue further. It sounded serious. She yanked on some clothes and shoved her presents into a bag. She wasn’t gonna leave them behind anywhere for someone to take them. 

Everything done, she sat and waited for the others. Haven couldn’t help but fidget impatiently. What was happening? Did they have to run again because the thing had caught up to her? 

Soon enough Dean was there was his and Sam’s things. He had Sam’s hand gripped tight in his own. Pastor Jim didn’t take much longer than that before coming in with a few bags and keys. He led them out to his car and they piled into the back. 

They were driving in the dark again. How long were they gonna drive this time? 

“What’s going on?” Haven asked. “You said you’d tell me in the car.” 

Pastor Jim nodded and tapped the wheel with a finger. “John’s tracked down whatever was after you, but it picked up your trail again. Don’t worry. He’s got it handled. We’ll come back in the morning once it’s safe.” 

Oh. It had found her again.

At least she hadn’t had to see it. 

* * *

_ “Silly girl. You thought you could hide from me?” _

_ Alexandrite whimpered and looked away.  _

_ “Leave me alone!” she cried. She heard the thing giggle. _

_ “Hm, and why would I do that?”  _

* * *

When she woke up, it was to Pastor Jim shaking her awake. She blinked at him. The sun was up. 

He was smiling at her. “It’s okay, Haven. We’re going back, alright? John did it. You’re safe.” 


	4. Pixy Stix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! And the short chapter.

_ Loki _

_ New York City, New York, USA _

_ December of 1986 _

The more Loki learned about Alexandrite Potter, the more intriguing the whole thing became. She’d been interesting from the start of course-- it wasn’t every day that Death personally interfered in anything, much less with a baby. Not that Loki had ever found out exactly what Death had been doing there that night-- aside from picking up a few souls. Death was slippery like that. 

But there had been… something he’d felt off of her that night. Only for an instant. He hadn’t felt it long enough to place it, hardly felt it long enough to know it was there before Death’s touch coated over it, or whatever it did. He didn’t know. He wasn’t even sure what it was that he felt-- only that it was… familiar? Maybe? Whatever it was sent a shiver through his wings. 

That was just from when she was a baby! Six years old and already someone was willing pay a  _ fae  _ to kill her? There was no mistaking the Fae’s Mark on the girl. She’d been marked for death, and would be hunted all her life. Most anything with the slightest bit of sensing ability would be drawn to her-- part of why a fae was so expensive to hire. The fae might not kill their target, but eventually  _ something  _ would. Whoever hired the fae  _ really  _ wanted Alexandrite Potter dead. Normally, even Loki would qualify this as “excessive force”, since they were only dealing with a 6-year-old. A magical one, yes, but still a young child with no control over said magic.

Needless to say, Loki was very interested in learning more. 

Still, he wasn’t really sure he  _ should  _ be poking in this. His curiosity burned, and he would definitely satisfy it without a thought if not two factors. 

One, Death was involved. Not even Loki liked poking too far into his business.

Two, the two children of the Hunter who’d picked Alexandrite Potter up  _ happened  _ to be his brother’s vessels. It had been a huge shock, putting it lightly. He hadn’t realized that the whole apocalypse song and dance was coming up. There hadn’t even been whispers about it yet! If the vessels had been born, he’d thought he would have heard something! His information network was well-maintained for a reason! 

He considered staying back until the Hunter-- John Winchester-- dropped little Alexandrite with the nearest authorities. Someone would be watching the vessels, so he  _ shouldn’t  _ be noticed near them. If anyone upstairs learned the pagan god Loki was poking around their vessels, he’d be in a sticky spot at the very least. He did not want that kind of attention. Not from his brothers and sisters. His disguise was good, but he had no interest in testing it like that. He’d stayed out of their way all these years for a reason.

But… he’d never been able to resist learning secrets. Especially not when there was a little danger involved. 

First things first: someone had to deal with that fae. If Loki was going to be investigating Alexandrite, she needed to be alive. He wasn’t confident enough in John Winchester’s abilities to leave the matter to him. Not for something Loki was so invested in. He’d only begun to hear of John Winchester recently. He probably didn’t have the experience to know what exactly he was dealing with. 

He spent an entire  _ month  _ poking and prodding John Winchester to the right answers. Despite the false trails he tried to set up, the fae was connected to Alexandrite through the Mark so was not misled for long. The fae was tracking her down, and John Winchester was annoyingly slow. 

At least the hunter was smart enough to call in backup as the fae closed in on Alexandrite’s location. He didn’t even need to be prompted to come up with the idea to tell the one guarding the girl and vessels to skip town while they set up a trap.

It was a nice trap, too. Once it sprung the fae wouldn’t be able to escape-- but she might still kill the hunters. Hm. Loki needed more information anyway…

So as soon as the trap was sprung, he put the hunters to sleep. 

Loki walked inside, munching on some sour candy he’d brought for the conversation. He smiled and waved. 

She recognized him instantly, freezing in shock before smiling coyly. “Hello, Loki. What can I do you for? I’m a little, shall we say, hindered at the moment… it would be so nice if a daring rescuer could assist me, don’t you think?”

Loki smiled back. It wasn’t a nice smile-- the fae’s instantly faltered at the sight. “It might be nice, dear, but that’s not why I’m here. Someone’s been naughty…” He tutted. 

The fae pouted. “You can’t let it slide? Just this once? I was given an offer I couldn’t refuse… even if the job is a little distasteful.” 

“By who?” Loki’s voice went sharp.

“Sorry, but I’d rather face your wrath than theirs--” 

Within an instant Loki had her by the throat, his eyes glowing dangerously. “Would you?” As she struggled, his hand heated from flame until it began to burn her skin. “Would you  _ really  _ like to test my patience? I’m known for many things, but not that.” 

She hissed at him. “All this over a six-year-old girl?!” 

“I’m curious.”

The fae cried out as her skin burned from the fire dancing on his fingers. At last she growled, “The ones upstairs! They hired me! You can’t blame me for saying yes! They don’t accept ‘no’ from anyone they see as lesser-- which is everyone!” 

Loki set her down. 

Father damn it. That made things even more complicated. 

But first… the fae needed to be dealt with. He cast a spell to freeze her so she wouldn’t harm the hunters when they woke up and stormed out of the room. They’d wake and kill her soon enough. While they were busy with that… 

He munched furiously on his candy. This was bad. If his brothers and sisters wanted her dead… damn it. Why would they want a six-year-old girl dead? Sure she was touched by Death, but… this made no sense. None! They wanted some random little girl dead so badly they deigned to hire a lowly little fae? It made sense that they wouldn’t get their hands dirty, he supposed… but why? Why Alexandrite Haven Potter?

There was a… possibility it was a lone, rogue angel behind this. For whatever reason. But there was even less reason to hire a fae to kill a little girl-- and with what? The fae had mentioned an offer she couldn’t refuse, and made it sound like it wasn’t just a rogue angel, but the full support of Heaven behind it… 

Loki would have to work off of the assumption that it was all of them. It was better to plan for the worst. 

He’d have to stay away from her after this, curiosity be damned. If everyone upstairs noticed the girl wasn’t dead… It was better they didn’t. She was already in danger of being discovered alive around the vessels. If Loki drew attention to her, she was dead. He’d have to play this carefully. As long as she was near the Winchesters, he couldn’t do anything that might make the angels look in on the vessels, and by extension notice Alexandrite was alive. 

He was going to have to tread very carefully. Good thing he was used to playing dangerous games.


End file.
